Milestones

2 things happened to me yesterday that I might consider milestones...or at least "highway markers" on the highway of self-improvement.

First thing, I was workin out yesterday. It was hot and sunny outside so I had my shirt off and was doing some cardio stuff (runnin up the hill in the front yard, jump rope, etc.) and one of the homies pulled up to the house. I stopped to say whassup and he said, "What you workin on today? Abs?" Now asking what I'm working on, for those who don't regularly take care of themselves physically, is referring to which muscle group I'm emphasizing that day. Now, what made me smile after he walked into the crib was, he not only asked me what muscle group I was working on, but he made the point of asking whether I was working on my abs. Again, for those who don't regularly hit the gym, when people try to guess it is because typically when you emphasize a muscle group it will look larger than normal or more defined than normal so you can usually guess correctly which muscle group any given person is working on by just looking at their body structure. Now he guessed abs, implying that my abs were looking right, and what made my day was that I wasn't doin abs AT ALL yesterday! Nothing worth mentioning to some, but definitely a sign that I'm moving in the right direction physically.

Now the other "milestone" is a little more "deep" shall we say. Yesterday evening, I was at the house by myself, the way I spend most weekends nowadays, and I was washing dishes and listening to music. Jazmine Sullivan's "After the Hurricane" came on and about halfway through the song, I cried. Seriously. Why exactly it happened, I can't fully explain, but I remember thinking about the lyrics to the song, about a man that destroys the people around him like a "hurricane", and how that song related to me and what I had done in past relationships, then about how my pops used to do the same thing to women, then how he wasn't around for me to talk about how I felt about it with, then, frankly, I lost it. I cried for a good minute. I mean "cryin so hard u get that ugly look on yo face" crying. I pulled it back together before the song was over, but I thought about how long it had been since I cried. The last time I had cried was at my pop's funeral, and that was in 2002. This is not me trying to be hard (hell if I was, I wouldn't have told you that I cried in the first place) but anyone who knows me knows that my feelings and I, we don't have the most "communicative" relationship. My mind has trained itself to quickly lock them away somewhere within the depths of my soul (an ability which has contributed greatly to my ability in the past to be extremely cold to those I care about). Either way, what I knew is that after that minute or so of "losing it", I felt better. Like some weight hadn't been lifted, but lightened on my shoulders. Now this doesn't mean that I'm liable to start cryin "just like a b$#ch" (to quote Dave Chappelle) at any given moment, but, as I blogged about in earlier posts, I have been making more of an effort to let people know how I feel about them and it starts with me letting myself know how I feel. My mind taking a moment to allow myself to feel the hurt that I harbor with me, and then communicating with my body to react to "let it go" is a powerful thing, at least for someone like me. Someone people refer to as "nonchalant". Everyone has feelings. EVERYONE. I think Nietzsche said something powerful when he said, "He who cannot give anything away cannot feel anything either." The more I give of myself, the more in touch I am becoming with my own feelings, moods, etc. Giving is much more than just a physical action. It is an almost spiritual rite. When I give of myself to someone, honestly, and openly, I am giving a piece of my soul, my God-given light, to them. Enough of my commentary, I'll end with this quote:

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

-Maya Angelou